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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25662229">given</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dialsoap/pseuds/dialsoap'>dialsoap</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Friends to Lovers, Gen, I feel like I could say this is, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Time Skip, UC Irvine Iwaizumi, between hq chapter 395 and 402, but pre other time skip, i mean to a degree..., is that quite it?, kind of an, oikawa in argentina</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:20:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,715</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25662229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dialsoap/pseuds/dialsoap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi spends the spring break of his senior year of college visiting Oikawa in Argentina.  It's the first time they've seen each other in person in ages. They sightsee, eat, sit around, bask in one other's company, talk about their futures...</p><p>They've known each other their whole lives and they've been away from home long enough that it's not quite clear where home is. This fic is about loving someone a world away and how that distance doesn't mean you love them any less. Maybe it makes the heart grow fonder, maybe it makes you grow up?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime &amp; Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>574</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>given</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I must say... this is the first fanfic I have written in my entire life... I've never even written the outline of one. I apologize if I keep going back and editing little things but I really just want it out of my hands now so I can stop thinking in circles about it. If you do read this, thank you! I hope it isn't unbearable and I'm sorry if it feels out of character!</p><p>*Spanish text isn't translated in the fic but they are listed at the end!</p><p>(also I cannot write volleyball so I apologize... and my Spanish is okay but it's school-based and not very colloquial so I apologize if it's off for Argentina and/or wrong altogether - please tell me!!!!)</p><p> </p><p>please talk to me about them on twitter if you want... all i do is sit and think and dwell... @oscarnutsaac</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Day 0.5</p><p> </p><p>As soon as he’s through the door, Iwaizumi flops with his entire weight onto Oikawa’s couch, backpack still strapped on.</p><p><br/>
“<em>Goodnight</em>.”</p><p><br/>
He’s here visiting Oikawa for his spring break. It’s been four years since they graduated high school, and while they’ve seen each other back in Japan, for a few days in the summer and the holidays, and Oikawa had come to see him in California once, they’ve never been able to get a visit to Argentina to work out before. But it’s his last spring break and he saved up money, asked one of his professors if he could take his exam early, and finally made it happen. Actually making it happen had been <em>more</em> than an ordeal. To get to San Juan it took 3 connections, and complete two delays, layovers and the cab, Iwaizumi had been traveling for over 30 hours before finally getting to Oikawa’s apartment.</p><p> </p><p>The place itself is snug, simple, the door opens right to the kitchen, a living room which can fit his lumpy two-person couch, and a tiny coffee table, a bathroom in the hall, and Oikawa's lone bedroom.</p><p><br/>
“But Iwa-chan, you just got here!”</p><p><br/>
“Oikawa…” He says, voice muffled from where he’s burrowed into the cushions. “I feel like my head was put in a pressure cooker. Can we just chill tonight? I just want to be horizontal for a few hours.” His eyes are still closed, he would melt into this couch if he could.</p><p><br/>
“Fine,” Oikawa whines it, but with a hint of sympathy. Iwaizumi can feel his weight shift as Oikawa clambers in to join him, trying to turn him over. He’d been antsy all day waiting for Iwaizumi to arrive and even though it’s 1 in the morning he’s wide awake. “<em>I-wa-chan.</em>” he gives him a poke to the side for each syllable.</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi grunts, too tired to swat at him.</p><p><br/>
“What.”</p><p><br/>
“Do you want to watch something?”</p><p><br/>
“…”</p><p>“Pleeease! I can’t sleep now! Don’t you want to? It’ll be like old times.”</p><p><br/>
“Fine.” Iwaizumi says with a sigh. “You pick.” His face is still squished into the cushions but he can imagine Oikawa’s face lighting up, “If I fall asleep you can’t give me shit about it though.” and then dropping to a pout.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan! You don’t even sound like you’re going to try!” Iwaizumi swings his backpack onto the floor and reaches for the blankets, not bothering to answer.</p><p>-----</p><p>Oikawa picks <em>The Empire Strikes Back</em>. It’s right in the sweet spot of their movie interests - aliens, combat, practical effects! Plus they’ve both seen it a billion times so Iwaizumi won’t mind if he’s drifting in and out of consciousness. After deeming the popcorn sufficiently popped he hops back onto the couch, computer in-tow, and hits play on the shady illegal site he found it on.<br/>
They end up huddled on the couch, laptop on the coffee table. The two of them swaddled in blankets with the bowl perched between them. Popcorn they were meant to be <em>sharing</em>.</p><p><br/>
“C’mon asshole you practically finished it-”</p><p><br/>
“It’s my popcorn!”</p><p><br/>
“What happened to hospitality, hm?”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi holds out for a good while, it’s a noble effort. But his blinks are getting longer and longer and he’s fading. He really did try, but he’s so damn tired. Right when he’s contemplating giving up or not he feels a weight slump onto his shoulder. He turns to see Oikawa, his mop of ever-tousled hair nestled into Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Popcorn bowl long-empty so it doesn’t make a mess. He sighs, he’s missing one of his favorite parts, Han Solo is getting sealed away in carbonite and Princess Leia is about to declare her love! and Oikawa’s passed out on his shoulder.</p><p><br/>
“Unbelievable.” Iwaizumi shakes his head. Finally giving in and closing his eyes.</p><p>-----</p><p>Day 1</p><p><br/>
Oikawa wakes up first. Technically he’s on break, but he’s also been waking up at 7 every day for the past 2 years so it’s automatic. It's still early so the temperature hasn't gotten too hot yet, and he's still in the clothes he'd picked Iwaizumi up in, before changing out of them. Iwaizumi is still knocked out, 4 hours behind, and tired from being cooped up in a tin prison for over 24 hours. He waits until it’s fair game to wake him, then runs into a jump onto the sofa like he’s not a 180cm adult.</p><p><br/>
“<em>Good morning</em>, Iwa-chan!”</p><p><br/>
“Nnngh.”</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan! It’s time to get up!” Oikawa sing-songs, bouncing on the bed and dodging the pillow that Iwaizumi wields like a club.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m up! I’m up!”</p><p><br/>
“You say that and yet you’re just lying there! I’ll believe it when I see it.” The pillow makes contact this time, and Oikawa lets out an ‘ow!’ between his warm laughter. Iwaizumi whips the blankets off with a huff and ambles out of his couch-bed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to take a shower.”</p><p> </p><p>“‘Kay!” Oikawa chirps. “The blue towel is for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi nods as he ruffles through his bag for his stuff.</p><p> </p><p>“Coffee?” Oikawa swings his legs over the couch and makes the two-stride trip to his kitchenette.</p><p> </p><p>“Please.” Iwaizumi replies from the doorway of the bathroom, pulling it shut.</p><p> </p><p>“As you wish!” he sings, getting out their mugs.</p><p> </p><p>The shower’s still running when Oikawa goes to sit on his balcony, which is barely a balcony and more like a step out of the door before there’s a railing. He looks around at the city, his apartment isn’t anything fancy but it’s right by the city center and has a pretty decent view. He takes in the view he sees every morning, multi-story buildings and a bit of the park, so different from the view from his room in Miyagi. The suburban neighborhood, trees, and his own yard where it met Iwaizumi’s. They used to be able to see each other’s windows from their own. Now they’re here, across the globe, and so much is different but a lot of it is still the same.<br/>
The water stops running and he hears the clamber of drawers and then the door. He looks over his shoulder to see Iwaizumi a bit more refreshed, toweling off his hair. It's shorter than it was over a year ago, not by much but still. Oikawa has seen him through video and pictures but it was never the same. California has left him tan, sun-soaked, and he's put on a bit more muscle. He's wearing one of his very snug t-shirts that says “WHERE THERE’S A WILL - THERE’S A WAY”. <em>How lame</em>, Oikawa laughs from behind his coffee cup, <em>and a little bit cute</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, Iwa-chan. I’m yours for the whole week off. What do you want to do?”</p><p> </p><p>“Before anything else, can we eat?”</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>“Shit. This is really good.”</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t it!”</p><p>They’ve gotten choripan at a place that's just a few blocks from Oikawa’s apartment. His teammates had taken him there when he’d just been getting acclimated but with his strict diet, he’s rarely allowed to indulge. But fuck it. This is his vacation and he is a growing boy who needs protein and carbs.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s my treat!”</p><p> </p><p>"It's not your treat if you steal half of mine."</p><p> </p><p>“Would it be messed up to order more to go?” Iwaizumi wonders aloud, and Oikawa can practically see the gears turning as he realizes that’d be asking for too much.</p><p><br/>
“I’ve got it! I’m the host, and you know since I’m a professional and everything-”</p><p><br/>
“I’ve seen your apartment, Shittykawa, your paycheck isn’t that impressive.”</p><p><br/>
“Says the one with student loans to worry about! You know what, offer rescinded, since you don’t appreciate my generosity.” Iwaizumi hand flinches, ready to smack him, but he backtracks when he looks down at his oil-covered fingers.</p><p><br/>
“Your generosity is appreciated, oh benevolent one.” he says with a mock bow, “Muchas gracias.”</p><p><br/>
“De nada.” Oikawa grins back at him.</p><p><br/>
Between chews they recap what they’ve been up to lately, Iwaizumi’s on his second to last semester, and Oikawa’s on a brief break from an active volleyball season. But they already knew that. They still video chat at least once a week, but even if they’ve already heard some of it before, it’s nice to hear in person. It’s just nice to hear each other talk.</p><p><br/>
“So, have you seen any of Kageyama’s recent games?”</p><p><br/>
“Pft. No.” Oikawa scoffs. At least when Chibi-chan asked him he had the senpai-advantage, but Iwa-chan can read him like a book and isn’t afraid to say it.</p><p>“You’re such a bad liar.”</p><p><br/>
“Why do you ask if you know the answer!”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi shrugs. <em>Asshole</em>. “Fun to watch you squirm.” he says, with an annoyingly smug grin. Oikawa sputters back at him, feeling like somehow he’s lost this round.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
“He’s really grown up hasn’t he?” Iwaizumi says and Oikawa can’t help but agree.</p><p><br/>
“Yeah, he really has.” and he’s almost embarrassed by how much he means it. “Ugh. Why do you even like Tobio-chan so much?”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi tilts his head, considering it. “Maybe he reminds me of you. He is your apprentice after all.”</p><p><br/>
“Oh, fuck off. He is <em>not</em>.” Oikawa jabs his skewer at him, Iwaizumi is irritatingly unthreatened by it. “What about you? What’s it like being an actual apprentice?”</p><p><br/>
“Honestly, really good.” he visibly perks up at the question. Always ready to rave about his idol. “Before it was more like an unofficial mentorship but now I get to sit in on most appointments and just talk to the guy - Utsui-san is like a walking encyclopedia.” Iwaizumi talks faster when he’s excited, he takes a break from eating mid-reach and waves his hands around while he talks.</p><p><br/>
“I still can’t believe you’ve been taken under Ushiwaka’s dad’s wing.”</p><p><br/>
“You know it’s so weird, Utsui-san is so laid back and chill about everything You wouldn’t know he and Ushijima were related at all. It’s so weird to watch them interact.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah yes, thank you for reminding me of your complete and utter betrayal.”</p><p><br/>
“You’re such a brat. He’s actually kind of cool. Super awkward. But definitely a nice guy.” Oikawa’s making a show of his disbelief across the table, which Iwaizumi won’t bother looking up at. “We get lunch whenever he comes to visit his dad and get this, he’s a super formal texter-”</p><p><br/>
“LA LA LA LA! I don’t want to hear about it!!! Why don’t you visit him then if you like him so much!”</p><p>Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, he’s always rolling his eyes.</p><p>“Do you know what I went through for you? My seatmate had the worst B.O. and there was this baby on the second flight with an ear infection-”</p><p><br/>
“Okay! Okay. I can forgive your treachery… treason, even-”</p><p><br/>
“What the fuck? You’re not a country-”</p><p><br/>
Oikawa clears his throat, “<em>Your cruel, sinful, disloyalty</em> … for coming all the way here for me.”</p><p><br/>
“Hm. Guess it was <em>kind of</em> worth it.”</p><p>-----</p><p>They go back to his place, put the additional choripan they’d purchased in the fridge, and Iwaizumi starts to unpack properly while Oikawa sits by.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan, did you bring me any gifts?”</p><p><br/>
“You wish.” He says, but he pulls several slightly dented candies out of his suitcase. It’s some of Oikawa’s favorites, kinds he hasn’t had in ages since he can’t get them in Argentina.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan!” he cheers, sitting up from his spot on the couch to look over “Ooh! I love these. Did auntie send them to you?”</p><p><br/>
“Nah, 99 Ranch.”</p><p><br/>
“Nice.” he nods, reaching his hands out to grab for them like a greedy kid.</p><p><br/>
“What do you say?” Iwaizumi scolds, holding them out of his reach.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Iwa-chan!!”</p><p><br/>
“I was going to bring you milk bread but then I thought about it getting squished between my shoes and socks for 30 hours, so that’s all I’ve got.”</p><p><br/>
“They’re perfect!” he says, already ripping them open.</p><p><br/>
-----</p><p><br/>
The rest of the day doing all the touristy things Oikawa insisted he had to. He pulls Iwaizumi around the city, some of the time quite literally. He points out his favorite shops and restaurants, particular points of interest, “that’s where I lost my phone!” and “that’s where I met that dog-walker lady, I sent you pictures, you remember right?”</p><p><br/>
They speed-run through as many museums as they can. Oikawa (who's only been to them once) plays tour guide even though Iwaizumi isn’t quite sold on his accuracy. Both of them agree that the Museo de Ciencias Naturales is their favorite, and as Oikawa reaches for Iwaizumi’s hand and runs up to the dinosaur skeletons on display, it reminds him of when they went on field trips in primary school. They were always <em>always</em> field trip buddies.</p><p><br/>
-----</p><p>After a hearty day of sight-seeing and an abundance of street food, they return to Oikawa’s apartment for the night. Iwaizumi pulls out his laptop and books and takes the chance to study.</p><p><br/>
“Aren’t you on Spring Break?”</p><p><br/>
“I am. But I also need to pass the BOC Exam at some point, so.”</p><p><br/>
“Lame, Iwa-chan.” He’s sitting on the couch, Iwaizumi’s phone in hand, which he did not give him permission to take, but technically it’s keeping him from getting distracted from his work, so Oikawa’s really doing him a service.</p><p>“<em>You</em> have a Tinder?”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi doesn’t even look up, shouldn’t he be caught like a deer in headlights?</p><p><br/>
“Why are you asking when you literally have my phone in your hands? And why are you on my phone?” He shrugs, clearly not grasping that this isn’t shrug-worthy.</p><p><br/>
“I was going through your pictures so I could send them to myself!” Duh. “By the way, how did you manage to not get your face in any of these?”</p><p><br/>
“You took them.”</p><p>“Ugh. Stop ignoring my question, Iwa-chan has a <em>Tinder</em>?”</p><p><br/>
“What does saying it again achieve-”</p><p><br/>
“Who are you and what have you done with my Iwa-chan?” Oikawa clutches the phone to his chest, ever dramatic. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, then reaches for it.</p><p><br/>
“My roommate made me make one.”</p><p> </p><p>“But have you actually used it?”</p><p><br/>
He shrugs again. What is with the shrugging!</p><p><br/>
“I mean I’ve only gotten past the matching part twice, so not really.”</p><p><br/>
“Twice!” he sits up, arms flailing, and Iwaizumi takes the opportunity to snatch his phone back.</p><p><br/>
“It was just awkward! I don’t know, most of the time people just want to hook up? It’s not really my kind of thing.” He’s avoiding eye contact now.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan went on a date…” Oikawa is still gaping, looking like someone had told him the sky was no longer blue. “<em>Two</em> dates.”</p><p><br/>
“Quit saying that like it’s impossible!” He says with a smack, and Oikawa lets out an ‘ow’ even though of course it didn’t hurt.<br/>
-----</p><p>Iwaizumi shuts his laptop at a quarter to eleven and the two of them get ready for bed in tandem. After bumping around in Oikawa’s tiny bathroom, Iwaizumi realizing he’d forgotten toothpaste and Oikawa offering his, they head back to the main room. Iwaizumi is grabbing for the pillow still on the couch from earlier and the throw blanket from last night when Oikawa cocks his head at him, “What are you doing?”</p><p><br/>
“Going to bed? What does it look like?”</p><p><br/>
“You’re not sleeping on the couch.”</p><p><br/>
“Why not? It was fine last night.”</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan, I heard you crack your back like three times today. You’re not taking the couch again.”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi drops the throw blanket and looks at him. “So where am I supposed to sleep?”</p><p><br/>
“Share with me!” Oikawa sing-songs, like it’s the obvious choice, Iwaizumi isn’t phased in the slightest. “I even have a queen now so you can’t complain about it being too small.”</p><p><br/>
“That just means there’s more room for you to spread out.” but Iwaizumi is already grabbing his phone charger and following Oikawa into his bedroom.</p><p><br/>
“I call the window side!” Iwaizumi could’ve called it, he’s already getting into the side opposite the window anyway, a force of habit. Oikawa shuffles in next to him, and the bed really is bigger than the set of futons they used to spread out side by side, or Iwaizumi’s dorm twin. It’s big enough they don’t have to be touching, but they are anyway. Just the sides of their arms, maybe the edge of a foot. Iwaizumi on his back and Oikawa on his side (though he’ll probably end up starfished by morning). After plugging in their phones and shifting around until they’re comfortable, Oikawa turns off his lamp and they lie in comfortable silence. They’re both tuckered out from a day of walking, and Iwaizumi is nearly out in a few minutes when he hears a quiet voice by his side.</p><p><br/>
“Goodnight, Iwa-chan.” he says in a whisper-yell, like they’re little kids trying not to be scolded for staying up past their bedtime. Iwaizumi smiles up at the ceiling, and even though no one can see him it’s practically audible.</p><p><br/>
“Goodnight, Shittykawa.”</p><p><br/>
-----</p><p>Day 2</p><p>Despite talking big about waking up early and seizing the day, when Oikawa’s alarm goes off at 6:00 am, Iwaizumi smacks him with a pillow until he turns it off. They fall back asleep easily and remain there for a few more hours before eventually dragging themselves up for a cereal-breakfast. Although it’s later than usual, they feel antsy after passing on their morning run and head out to make up for it.</p><p><br/>
Oikawa’s apartment is within 10 minutes of their gym, practically in the city center. He pretty much functions in the 2.5 km radius surrounding work. They start at his place and go for a run through the Parque de Mayo. Iwaizumi is still sleep-sore and weary, but it begins to shake him out of his grogginess. As their job dwindles to a walk, then to a sit, they pass the water bottle between them as they sit side by side on a park bench. With a swig of water, Iwaizumi looks up at his surroundings.</p><p><br/>
“You totally planned this.”</p><p><br/>
“This is my normal route!” Oikawa yells back, way too defensive for Iwaizumi to not be right, and he didn’t even have to say it. They <em>just</em> finished running and yet, of course he brought them here.<br/>
“You really want to play volleyball?”</p><p><br/>
“Oh like you don’t want to.” He’s got him there. They're right at the entrance of Oikawa’s gym, and he’s already walking, near-skipping over to it, “Come on! I wanted to give you a tour anyway.” he says. Iwaizumi follows close behind.</p><p>-----</p><p>Oikawa makes a show of sneaking around the gym (Iwaizumi totally heard him humming The Pink Panther theme song) like it isn’t the middle of the day and he is allowed to be here. He waves his hand around like an excitable conductor as he tells Iwaizumi about the building, about how he can’t believe Blanco used to practice here, and now how he’s his coach. Iwaizumi remembers when they'd met him as children, tiny and excitable, he hadn't quite gotten Oikawa's fixation on the setter but as soon as he'd looked at the two of them and wished them luck he had understood, starstruck right alongside his best friend. Little Tooru had decided what he wanted, then and there, and it's been over a decade since, and he's made it so. Their classmates joked about him being crazy for going for it, but Iwaizumi didn't find it surprising at all. It was the logical path, the only trajectory. Oikawa Tooru was practically ambition incarnate and he was making his dreams happen in real-time.</p><p> </p><p>As big and grand as his dreams are, a locker room is still a locker room, Oikawa drags him inside, and Iwaizumi nags him about the state of his locker. They realize that while Oikawa has a set of stuff at the gym, Iwaizumi didn’t pack spare shoes, but they’ve always been just within a half size of each other so he’ll have to do with Oikawa’s. They finally get to the end of the tour, the grand reveal, the court itself - just to find it occupied.</p><p>Of course, a couple of professional volleyball players who play volleyball every day are spending their break here. Oikawa laughs when he realizes he wasn’t the only one antsy to get on the court. They’re all on a break so the groups not all there. The older, longtime-professional ones, have headed to the beach or their second homes in the country to spend time with their beautiful model wives, but some of the guys are still in town. But here, three of them are tossing a ball around, and look up to see them.</p><p><br/>
“Tooru!”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi has technically met a few of them before, in the sense that he’s gotten a wave from behind Oikawa’s head while they video chat. He knows a few of their names -there’s Benjamin, Mateo, Valentin, and two Nicolases that he didn’t realize were two separate people for the longest time. It’s funny seeing Oikawa with new friends, they’d been each other’s first friends, and even when Iwaizumi befriended other kids on the playground because of how good he was at catching bugs and skill in kickball, Oikawa was right there beside him. As they grew up Oikawa was surrounded by girls, but they weren’t really his <em>friends</em>, and for all his popularity there weren’t many people that he knew that Iwaizumi didn’t. It’s odd seeing with people that are wholly his own.</p><p><br/>
The trio pauses their playing to turn to them, walking over to the edge of the court.</p><p><br/>
“Toto! ¿Dónde has estado?” Iwaizumi is a bit surprised at the nickname but smiles at it. The tallest of the three, looks at Iwaizumi with a smile, “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”</p><p><br/>
“Hey, guys.” Oikawa replies in English for Iwaizumi’s sake. At this point Oikawa’s English is near-tied with his Spanish so he’s fully conversational but Iwaizumi’s Spanish is still doesn’t go much past the basic tourist necessities. “Iwa-chan, this is Benjamin, Mateo, and Nicolas,” he says, quieter, “the one with the crazy ex.” Iwaizumi nods, understanding. Oikawa puts his arms out like he’s presenting a display, “Guys, this is who I was telling you about - say hi, Iwa-chan!”</p><p><br/>
“It’s Iwaizumi,” he says with an elbow to Oikawa’s side, before they probably think Iwa-chan is his actual given name. “Hajime Iwaizumi.”</p><p><br/>
“¡Bienvenido Iwa-chan!” the taller of the two, Benjamin says with a voice that booms.</p><p><br/>
“Ah, muchas gracias.” Iwaizumi says, not obvious to the idle viewer, but for a lifelong observer? a teensy bit shy.</p><p><br/>
“Oh, do you speak any Spanish?” says Mateo, looking back and forth between them.</p><p><br/>
“No, no, just much as a college credit could teach me.” Oikawa catches the look his teammates give each other. So Iwa-chan had picked Spanish as his language. He’d already been good enough at English that he couldn’t justify taking it. And that way they could practice speaking and watch Spanish-language movies together… It was practical.</p><p><br/>
“Well, it’s nice to meet you Hajime!” Benjamin says his name without the ‘h’, “Toto here talks about you <em>a lot</em>.”</p><p><br/>
“I do not!” and under his breath, “screw you.”</p><p><br/>
“You really do.” Nicolas pipes in. “Es verdad.”</p><p><br/>
“So, shall we play?”</p><p><br/>
-----</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa’s teammates thank him for his arrival, they’d wanted to do a two on two but another teammate of theirs had flaked. There are five of them so Iwaizumi sits back to watch, while he’s always been athletic, he’s still no professional volleyball player, and he’s still exhausted. Despite their complaints, he says that he’s more than happy just to see them in action, and he means it. He’s seen streams of their games, eyes zeroed in on Oikawa most of the time, but he pays attention to them all. When they were younger it had become clearer and clearer that, as much as volleyball was a team sport, Oikawa was the star of their team. He was going places, and he has. It’s crazy seeing their star student here with people on his level, here he doesn’t stand out quite the same, not that he’s outshined, but that he’s surrounded by capable, worthy players. It’s a thrill to watch.</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi has seen Oikawa set for other people, of course he has, but with just a look he can tell that Oikawa is in his element. Maybe they’ll never have quite what the two of them have, some near telepathy that they’d gotten teased about, but he can tell that Oikawa knows each of these players in and out, how he adjusts accordingly, accommodates them, yet simultaneously challenges them. Makes them jump as high as they can because he knows they can make it, and they rush to meet him. He always had that effect on people, it was, and still is, inspiring.</p><p><br/>
Their game comes to a close, and the rest of the guys come to sit to take a breather.</p><p><br/>
Oikawa walks up to him, sweaty and red yet beaming, and holds out a hand.</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi looks up, waiting for it.</p><p><br/>
“Come on. You have to. At least once. You know you want to.”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes but he’s already extending a hand to grab Oikawa's, who pulls him up as if he couldn’t do it himself. He’s a tiny bit embarrassed about looking like an idiot in front of Oikawa’s teammates. Sure, he works out pretty much daily, and he’s been able to keep up with his friends on the university team in the past, but he’s still long out of practice. He hasn’t played volleyball in a while. Let alone volleyball with Oikawa. But, embarrassment be damned and as tired as he is, he really does want to.</p><p><br/>
He wonders what they’ll be like together. It’s been over a year since they saw each other in person and even longer since they’ve played together. They just toss the ball around at first, the rest of the guys are still there, cleaning up a bit and casually watching. Iwaizumi takes a few breaths, casts a glance at Oikawa and nods his head. They’re just doing a casual drill like they did when they were kids in his backyard. It feels like going back to basics.</p><p> </p><p>Bump.</p><p> </p><p>They’ve done it a million times. It’s familiar, it’s habit. It’s as easy as breathing.</p><p> </p><p>Set.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa extends his hands and it feels effortless, setting for Iwaizumi is muscle memory, even years apart, he sets for him like he’s tailored a perfect fit.</p><p> </p><p>Spike.</p><p> </p><p>It feels like home.</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi leaps for it, up to the challenge, and brings his hand down onto the ball with a crack and a <em>WHOOOSH</em> - it strikes the ground like a meteor.</p><p> </p><p>The ball is sent flying, off to the wall, and Iwaizumi doesn’t even realize he’s grinning until he hears a whistle from off to the side.</p><p><br/>
Sure, it’s just the two of them and they’re just tossing the ball around but he could feel it. They’ve still got it. Together, they’re thunder and lightning, they’re unstoppable, they’re fearless. It’s like they were made for each other.</p><p><br/>
He turns to find Oikawa already looking at him, eyes lit up and sparkling. Grinning back at him so big he almost wants to tease him for it. But he knows he’s got to be just bad.</p><p><br/>
“Hajime!” Benjamin’s voice shakes him out of it, and Iwaizumi turns to nod at him. How long had they just been staring at each other? “Tooru said you had a lot of power, but he really wasn’t kidding.”</p><p><br/>
“He said that?” Iwaizumi says, raising an eyebrow, and Oikawa snaps his head over to his teammate like he’s been betrayed yet again.</p><p><br/>
“Toto talks about you all the time you know-”</p><p><br/>
“Not always-” Oikawa whines back, but he can’t even deny it.</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi is still smiling to himself as he watches them ruffle Oikawa’s feathers all the way to the locker room, it’s good for him, keeps him humble.</p><p>“He’s really not as small as you made him seem-”</p><p><br/>
“Oi! Shittykawa, what the hell have you been saying!”</p><p>-----</p><p>After they’ve showered and changed, the gang of them stand outside the gym. Mateo has to head home, bidding them farewell at the door, and four of them are left on the steps outside the gym.</p><p><br/>
“So, has this one been welcoming you properly?” Benjamin slings his arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulder. He really is tall, he makes Oikawa seem almost average, which makes Iwaizumi seem… whatever. “Have you gotten asada yet? <em>You have to</em>.”</p><p><br/>
“Not yet.”</p><p><br/>
“Toto!” He tuts at him, shaking his head in disapproval. “I’m ashamed. He’s been here how long?”</p><p><br/>
“It's barely been a day!”</p><p><br/>
“That’s it, we’re treating you! Come on, Hajime.” Benjamin says with a clap to his back. “Vamos!” He steers their newfound friend on, the other two swinging in around them to make a little Iwa-chan-pile. Oikawa stands still, it’s only been a moment but he can tell they’ve already decided to adopt Iwa-chan. Of course, they’d like him. He always had that weird charisma with his fellow manly men. Plus they can bond over bullying him.</p><p><br/>
“Keep up, Toto!” Nicolas calls without looking back, Iwaizumi turns to make eye contact with him, chuckling. He’s still laughing as he stumbles, sandwiched by two very tall, boisterous professional volleyball players. His eyes widen and he mouths a “help” over his shoulder.</p><p><br/>
Serves him right. Oikawa runs to catch up with them before they scare his guest off.</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>They go to an asada place that the group apparently frequents, it’s more meat, which Iwaizumi can’t complain about. Oikawa remarks about how his dietician is going to kill him, which earns him a nudge from Iwaizumi. With his metabolism he’ll snap back within a week, it had always been annoying that he could stuff his face and somehow end up fitter than he’d started.</p><p><br/>
After an hour or so of eating, getting to know each other a bit -</p><p><br/>
<em>“So sports medicine?”</em>
</p><p><br/>
<em>“Yeah, I’m working to be an athletic trainer.”</em> He says, a teeny bit proud, and absolutely certain.</p><p><br/>
<em>“Oh, you’ll be great!”</em>
</p><p>- and teaching Iwaizumi some Spanish,</p><p><br/>
<em>“Don’t teach him curse words! He already has enough of a pottymouth!”</em>
</p><p><br/>
<em>“Oh, Hajime! How do you say ‘fuck’ in Japanese? Tooru won’t tell me.”</em>
</p><p><br/>
By the time they’re done eating two hours have gone (they hadn’t even noticed it had been that long!) and the sun has long since set. They’re left stuffed, a bit beer-buzzed, and newly friends. Oikawa doesn’t say it aloud but he can tell Iwaizumi approves of his friends, which makes him feel a bit giddy. And they make it outwardly known that they like Iwaizumi. It feels silly, he knew they would, it’s not like they’d be able not to like Iwaizumi. But he realizes that he really, really wanted them to.</p><p><br/>
The waitress comes by with the bill and before he has a chance it’s out of his reach,</p><p><br/>
“Ha, too slow!” Benjamin says, seizing it in hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Guys, he’s my guest, it’s fine-”</p><p><br/>
“No, no, no, this is our gift to both of you, si Mateo?” who nods back, ignoring Oikawa’s huff from across the table. This seems like this happens often, the two of them giving them shit.</p><p><br/>
“Really, I’ve got this one.”</p><p><br/>
“Not if you can’t catch it!”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi looks up from his meal to see a three-person stand-off between CA San Juan’s setter, middle blocker, and wing spiker.</p><p><br/>
“Fine.” Oikawa caves first, the other two laughing at him. He sees Iwaizumi joining along with them in his periphery and bumps him with his shoulder, <em>traitor traitor</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"Thank you, so much." Iwaizumi clears his throat, saying it for the both of them.</p><p><br/>
“Okay. Hajime.” Benjamin says, clicking the pen he’d just signed his signature with shut.“This is a very serious question.”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi waits.</p><p><br/>
“Are you ready…” he starts, and Nicolas picks up where he left off “to go party?”</p><p><br/>
“Oh, I don’t know?” Iwaizumi starts, uncertain.</p><p><br/>
“You haven’t gone out dancing yet?’ Nicolas looks at Oikawa like he has failed in his hosting somehow.</p><p><br/>
“It’s been one day!”</p><p><br/>
“Well then, today is the day!”</p><p><br/>
Oikawa hums, considering it. Sometimes he feels just a teeny bit jealous that Iwaizumi has had the whole college experience. Not just that, but the American college experience. The weekly frat parties with the copious underage drinking, the horny college students all sweaty and sticky and huddled together. A good amount of his nights ended up with him leaving early to Facetime Oikawa, trying to describe the scene as well as he could. “<em>It was sticky</em>.” But the partying had mostly dwindled since his first year and they hadn’t really gotten to experience it together.</p><p><br/>
“You <em>are</em> only here for a bit.” Oikawa feels himself agreeing with them, turning to Iwaizumi with a shrug. The slightly-embarrassed flush Iwaizumi has on his face confirms it, “Let’s go out!”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi looks at him, mock-defeated, and from across the table they look like they’re having an entire conversation with looks and quirks of eyebrows. He doesn’t say it aloud, but the <em>For me?</em> Is almost tangible.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan, we have to!”</p><p><br/>
“Oh because you’re some kind of party animal.” Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at him. Like he doesn’t eat, sleep, and breathe volleyball. Oikawa scrunches his nose at him, but he can already tell he’s agreed.</p><p>——</p><p>They end up at a bar Oikawa’s never been to, but that his friends apparently know it well enough. It’s not crazy late yet, but the place is full up, the music is loud, and people are laughing, dancing, flirting, having fun. Iwaizumi is the last in their little conga line, as Oikawa’s teammate leads the crusade to the bar. Having come from dinner, and before that the gym, they're a bit under-dressed. Just t-shirts and jeans, but the bar is such a mix of people they don't seem to stand out. They hop onto two open seats, as his buddies make their way to the dancefloor. Iwaizumi hovers by as Oikawa orders for them, of course he’d get something fruity and pink with a little umbrella in it, then he nudges him, “Iwa-chan, what do you want?”</p><p><br/>
“Just a beer is fine.”</p><p><br/>
“Una cerveza por favor- what kind? They have Asahi.” He turns back to him, switching languages without effort.“Una caña, gracias.” Oikawa punctuates his sentence with a flip of his hair and a smile. Iwaizumi just shakes his head, he knows that <em>Oikawa knows</em> the kind of effect he has on people. The bartender gives him a look up and down that says it worked. The bastard probably hasn’t had to pay for his own drink in ages.<br/>
There’s a Latin-pop-remix fusion playing way so loud they can hardly hear each other but it’s okay, they just look around and people watch as they get to finishing their first drinks. The place is getting absolutely packed. Everywhere they look there are people. Lots of people. Lots of, definitely mostly men.</p><p><br/>
“Is this a gay bar?” Iwaizumi’s voice is muffled through the music.</p><p><br/>
“What?”</p><p><br/>
“Oikawa, this is a gay bar.” Iwaizumi states rather than asks.</p><p><br/>
“What? No, it isn't.”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah, it is. There are almost only guys here.” It’s not a complaint, he’s just right. And a little curious as to what made Oikawa’s friends pick it out of all the bars on this block.</p><p><br/>
“That doesn’t mean... Iwa-chan, how would you even know what a gay bar is like-” he turns his head to the crowd, ready to prove Iwaizumi wrong. He just waits, practically seeing the gears turn in Oikawa’s fluffy-haired head, and gives him a look.</p><p><br/>
“Oh. Huh.”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi just chuckles and takes a sip of his drink.</p><p>-----</p><p>They eventually brave the dance floor, or rather Oikawa’s teammates dance, he sway-giggles, and Iwaizumi looks at them with his arms crossed but an easy smile on his face. After an hour or so of singing every other word to Top 20 remixes, Oikawa wanders back to the bar to get another drink.</p><p><br/>
Oikawa takes his perch at the bar, waiting for the bartender to be free and twiddles with his tiny umbrella as he watches Iwaizumi get swept away by his teammates, ushered further into the crowd. It makes him laugh to see how quickly they’ve adopted him, and are seemingly trying to get him to dance. <em>Good luck with that</em>. He’s happy to see them bonding.</p><p><br/>
He watches as he waits. Benjamin has disappeared somewhere among the masses, and between shoulders and waving arms, he can see Iwaizumi awkwardly looking around now that he’s been left alone. He doesn’t look scared or anything, he’s handled it before, but he’s so not a party person. He thinks it’s a little funny to see him raise his eyebrows at all the sweaty people surrounding him. A couple of people spark a conversation with him and he can vaguely see Iwaizumi nodding along.</p><p><br/>
He registers just a moment late that someone is talking to him, and looks over at the bartender, oh! Of course. That’s what he was doing. He bats his eyelashes and asks for another one of his pink fruity things, and the gin and tonic Iwa-chan had asked him for. Once he’s gotten his drinks in hand, he turns back around and scans the scene, his eyes find Iwaizumi again, talking with somebody, seemingly more engaged now. He’s too far away to catch what they’re saying but the body language of the other guy says it all. The twist of his head and bend of his body says <em>“Where are you from?” “What’s your name?”</em> and, maybe he’s just imagining it but <em>“Do you want to get out of here?”</em></p><p><br/>
“Your friend is popular.” Nicolas’s voice surprises him a bit as slides up to him, back for another drink himself.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan? Please, he’s never had a girlfriend in his life.”</p><p><br/>
“I’m not sure he’s looking for one.” there’s a chuckle, and Oikawa can tell that somehow it is at his expense.</p><p><br/>
Oikawa turns back to look at the crowd, having lost Iwaizumi again, and he sees a few girls (there are a few here, Iwa-chan!) and some guys in the vicinity of where he was. Finally, spiky hair peeks out from behind a wayward arm and he spots him in a vague group of people among many. Oikawa squints a bit. The congregation almost reminds him of what his fan club looked like back in high school. They’re talking, nudging, giggling, <em>looking</em>.<br/>
Unmistakably ogling… Iwaizumi Hajime?</p><p><br/>
Huh.</p><p><br/>
He’s definitely buzzed, but it’s not like he’s lost all sense of reality. He can see Nicolas follow his line of sight from where he’s standing next to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Told you.” and with that, he pushes himself off the bar and strides back to the dancefloor. Rude.</p><p><br/>
Oikawa is left standing there, watching the guy he’s known all his life being awkwardly chatted up by some college kids.</p><p><br/>
Ever since his junior high (when Oikawa went through his metamorphosis and emerged a taller, <em>flippier</em>, volleyball-playing butterfly) he was the one with the fangirls, with the brigade waiting for him when school was over and when games got out, the one who got chocolates upon chocolates and cutesy, earnest notes in his locker every year. It was a known fact. Those were the rules. 1+1 equals 2, 2+2 equals 4, Oikawa Tooru is the hot one in the duo that is Oikawa and Iwaizumi.<br/>
Sure, he could admit that Iwaizumi had some kind of magnetism with the team, he was the senpai Kindaichi and Kyoutani idolized and who Kunimi respected (even if he wouldn’t admit it), he was weirdly competent, good at every sport even though volleyball was his specialty, he was always a hit at the arm-wrestling table at the school festival. But he was never the one to get attention like this? He wasn’t the one people had crushes on?</p><p><br/>
For all his teasing, he knows that Iwaizumi isn’t unattractive. He still had his fair share of confessions, even a few awkward walks home with girls back in high school, but he always exuded an <em>indifference</em> about it that Oikawa had almost forgotten that Iwaizumi and romance was possible.</p><p><br/>
Before he realizes it, Oikawa has downed the rest of his sugary drink, which doesn’t even taste like alcohol anyway, and he whips back around to the bartender. “Perdon, un otro - un poco más fuerte, por favor.”</p><p><br/>
The bartender nods, definitely checking him out, which gives him a tiny sense of security that he isn’t completely losing it.</p><p><br/>
“Gracias.” He mumbles, guzzling this drink down too, and shakes his head when it stings.</p><p>-----</p><p>A few drinks and definitely some shameless flirting with the very cute bartender later and Oikawa is feeling warm and friendly and like he really <em>really</em> wants to see Iwa-chan. He hadn’t noticed he’d been away from him for so long now. Oikawa whips his head around, in search of Iwaizumi, probably too fast because his head feels like it’s swimming, then he spots him.</p><p><br/>
He’s leaned up against a wall, beer in one hand, the other draped casually across his waist, tucked into his other elbow, and he’s looking up at someone. Looking very closely at a very tall, very <em>handsome</em> guy that’s bent over to listen to him.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan! There you are!” Oikawa doesn’t exactly remember walking over there, but now he’s next to Iwaizumi, slithering his arms around the one not holding his drink, clinging to him like a koala. “I was looking for you!”</p><p><br/>
“Where’ve you been?” Iwaizumi says, immediately giving Oikawa his attention. Oikawa takes a sip from the drink meant for Iwaizumi before placing it into his hand with slender, elegant fingers. He maybe feels a bit too satisfied about it when Tall Guy looks a bit impatient and turns back to his own friends.</p><p><br/>
“I was just sitting at the bar,” Oikawa says, sing-songy, holding Iwaizumi’s arm for purchase and not because he’s solid and warm and Iwa-chan. He likes how familiar their bodies feel, how he's not embarrassed by how they're making contact up and down his frame.  “I got free drinks.” Iwaizumi nods at that, seemingly knowing something that Oikawa doesn’t.</p><p>“You okay?”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m really good. I was just wondering where you were.”</p><p><br/>
“Well, here I am.”</p><p><br/>
“Hm... You are..." he trails off, then steers himself back on track, "Iwa-chan, I really missed you…”</p><p><br/>
“I’ve only been over here for like twenty minutes.”</p><p><br/>
“No, no, no. I missed you before that. Well, I missed you just now too… but I mean I miss you always.” Iwaizumi looks a little dazed at that comment, staring at him for a beat too long, but he’s not so easily shaken.</p><p><br/>
“I miss you too.” he says, just purely honest, and it feels way too serious for whatever bass-heavy electro-pop song happens to be playing in the background.</p><p><br/>
Oikawa lets out the tiniest gasp, not even sure why he’s surprised to hear something he already knows. When they start and end their weekly calls saying so, when he thinks it every day. Has distance made the heart grow fonder? Or was he always this fond? He looks into Iwaizumi's eyes and feels his lip almost quiver.</p><p><br/>
“Hey, are you okay?” Iwaizumi asks again, and his eyes are so intense they’re almost sobering. They’re just standing there, moving far too little for all the bustling around them. Oikawa is still holding onto Iwaizumi’s arm with a vice grip, tapping his fingers along his biceps as Iwaizumi waits patiently.</p><p><br/>
“I am! I am. I’m just really glad you’re here Iwa-chan. I wish...” what does he wish? That this visit wasn’t only a few days? That he hasn’t been able to be this close to him for over a year? He doesn’t finish his thought, not even really certain where it was going. Happy, cuddly, slightly-handsy drunk Oikawa is giving way to sentimental, teary Oikawa and he suddenly yearns for another drink to hold onto this bubbly feeling before he gets too bogged down missing a person that he’s literally holding on to. He grabs for the drink meant for Iwaizumi- who moves it just out of his reach.</p><p><br/>
“How much have you had?”</p><p><br/>
“Hmm… I don’t know. A few..”</p><p><br/>
“In less than an hour?” Oikawa can hear his doctor-voice, Iwa-chan is no fun like this, and he just wants him to have fun.</p><p><br/>
“Not strong ones! I’m fine Iwa-chan.”</p><p><br/>
“Oikawa you know you have a low alcohol tolerance-” Tall as he may be, Oikawa is still a boy with nearly zero percent body fat and hardly any drinking experience. “You feel good now but you’re going to feel like shit later.”</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan,” he says, serious, catching Iwaizumi a bit off guard. He looks at him expectantly. “Are you my mother?” he says, blinking up at him with doe-eyes.</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi scoffs at him, going to push him off but when Oikawa wobbles far more than expected he steadies his hold on his arm. Oikawa is smiling like an idiot and starts to trail his hand down Iwaizumi’s arm to make a grab for his drink.<br/>
“Nope. Nice try.” Iwaizumi slips it out of his hand, catching Nicolas’ eye over Oikawa’s shoulder and handing it to him. He mouths a ‘thank you!’ and turns back to Oikawa, “You’re grounded for the night.”</p><p><br/>
“Wh-what? But Iwa-chan!” He moves his head far too fast and feels a wave of nausea. Okay fine. Maybe he’s not as together as he thought.</p><p>“I think it’s time we head back.” Oikawa juts his lip out, whine incoming. He’s draping his whole weight onto Iwaizumi now, just to be an asshole.”</p><p><br/>
“B-but I’m not even tired!”</p><p><br/>
“We’ve been here for like three hours. <em>I’m</em> tired.”</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan.” He’s pouting, it’s the kind where he’s actually upset about it but still being dramatic. “I don’t want to ruin your night.”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi pauses at that, making sure to look him in the eye. “You’re not ruining it? I had fun. Honestly.” Oikawa looks at him suspiciously, then slowly nods his head, letting Iwaizumi guide him out.</p><p> </p><p>They find his teammates, who are sad to see them go but look at Oikawa flopped over Iwaizumi’s shoulders and nod knowingly, “take care of the baby okay!”</p><p><br/>
“Of course.”</p><p><br/>
-----</p><p> </p><p>They walk back to his apartment side by side, Oikawa making it a game of walking like they’re in some kind of potato sack race. By the time they stumble through Oikawa’s door, it’s almost 4 and his drunkenness is hurting his head just enough that he wants to go right to bed. Of course, Iwaizumi won’t let him, and helps him take off his shows even though he can do it himself! Once he’s free of his stupid shoelaces he beelines right for the bed only for muscly arms to catch him.</p><p><br/>
“You’re going to whine if you fall asleep in your clothes, at least change, brush your teeth?”</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan… I’m tired.”</p><p><br/>
“Thought you said you weren’t.” Oikawa feels like he’s been led into a trap and huffs at Iwaizumi, before awkwardly shucking his over-shirt off and fumbling around to get his belt off. His mood sways between feeling giddy to frustrated, like a pendulum. He frowns, feeling a pang in his skull- bad idea thinking about swinging around and renews his rush to get out of his clothes. He finally gets to his jeans, and after kicking them off, grabs the first sweatshirt in reach - Iwaizumi’s, from the UC Irvine student store the time he toured the campus. He gets yanks it on and somehow gets himself tangled in it (okay maybe he was drunker than he’d thought) and struggles to find the hole to put his head through when he feels a pull and his cotton prison opens up to the too-bright light of his room, and Iwaizumi’s face looking at him.</p><p><br/>
“Brush your teeth.”</p><p><br/>
“Nope. Don’t want to.” He says, dropping onto the bed before Iwaizumi can stop him.</p><p><br/>
“You’re going to wish you did.”</p><p><br/>
“Whatever, not like I have to kiss anybody.” his eyes are closed, and he makes a grabby hand at his lamp but it’s too far away. He can hear Iwaizumi grumble as he walks across the room to do it for him, <em>win</em>.</p><p><br/>
“Well, I’m going to brush mine because I’m not disgusting.” He says, pausing at the nightstand, about to turn for the bathroom.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan, wait!” Oikawa reaches out to grab his hand.</p><p><br/>
“Hm?”</p><p><br/>
“You have to tuck me in first.” </p><p><br/>
The next thing he sees is the underside of a pillow, and he's about to whine, but then the covers are being neatly pulled over his body and up to his chin. He feels his head being propped up by a large yet tender hand, and he’s repositioned on his pillow so his head is turned to the side and peeks his eyes out to see Iwaizumi knelt at his bedside.</p><p> </p><p>For all the jokes about him being brutish and harsh, he’s always been the gentlest person Oikawa has ever met. He’d always thought so, but his mind feels the need to remind him: he’s going to be such a good trainer…</p><p><br/>
“You’re such a baby.” but it comes out so mild Oikawa almost finds it flattering. The look pointed at him is exasperated? yet fond.</p><p><br/>
Oikawa hums back at him, closing his eyes again and tugging his covers close, “Hm… if I’m a baby, then you’re my mom.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Goodnight</em>, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi stands up, his voice traveling further off as he goes to get ready for bed.</p><p><br/>
“Goodnight, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa smiles stupidly into his pillow. “Love you.” His eyes are already shut and he can’t tell if Iwaizumi heard him or if he’s already out of range until there's a faint, “Love you too, dumbass.” from somewhere across the room. He hears the click of the door and before Iwaizumi can join him, he's fallen asleep.</p><p> </p><p>——-</p><p>Day 3</p><p>They’d gotten back to his apartment late enough that Iwaizumi is still passed out by 11, but Oikawa lies awake in bed for a while before finally getting out of his bed with a wobble at the strike of noon. He looks back at Iwaizumi lying on his back, a bit of drool on his chin, one arm outstretched on the pillow and the other in his shirt, and feels too guilty to disturb him. So he sneaks out quietly and paces his apartment, antsy and a little bored, until eventually sitting alone on his balcony. He finds himself going into his phone contacts, dialing without a clear goal, and almost doesn't register that he's pressed call until it's being picked up.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“H-hello?”</em>
</p><p><br/>
“Makki?”</p><p><br/>
<em>“Oikawa? You never call me? Dude, are you okay?”</em> Hanamaki yawns. He doesn’t seem <em>that</em> worried. <em>“What the fuck? it’s almost one in the morning.”</em></p><p><br/>
“That’s not even late for you?”</p><p><br/>
<em>“I have work in the morning.”</em>
</p><p><br/>
“Pft. You don’t have a job.”</p><p><br/>
<em>“Fine.”</em> He can hear a grumble through the phone. <em>“but I stayed up all day yesterday so I’m tired now! Can you bother me later?”</em></p><p><br/>
“No, I can not, Iwa-chan is still sleeping-”</p><p><br/>
<em>“So was I- Oh wait! Does that mean this is about him?”</em> Damn it. Even Tired-Hanamaki wouldn’t let him get away with that one.</p><p><br/>
“Shut up.”</p><p><br/>
<em>“So it is!”</em>
</p><p><br/>
“...”</p><p>
  <em>“If you’re not going to talk to me why can’t you talk to your Argentinian friends? The ones who are in the same time zone.”</em>
</p><p><br/>
“I can’t do that. They think Iwa-chan’s cool. They don’t know him like you do.”</p><p><br/>
<em>“Ugh,”</em> Oikawa can hear the ruffle of blankets, so Hanamaki’s surrendered, and has effectively sat up to see what this is all about. “<em>What is ‘this’ exactly?”</em></p><p><br/>
“I don’t even know. Last night Iwa-chan and I went to a bar…”</p><p><br/>
<em>“Uh-huh.”</em>
</p><p><br/>
“and it was fun I guess, we didn’t really do anything crazy, you know how boring he is. But all these people were like, looking at him and coming up to him, and this one guy was definitely hitting on him-” Oikawa says it like it's unfathomable, his theatrics wasted since they’re not in person. “and you know how Iwa-chan doesn’t know what flirting is but I swear- and they were mostly speaking English too, like he looked like he was talking to this one guy forever-”</p><p><br/>
“<em>You guys went to a gay bar?”</em> Stupid Makki, not even paying attention to the important parts of what he’s saying.</p><p><br/>
“Th-that’s not the point! I think Nico and Ben just got the wrong idea but that’s not the weird part-”</p><p><br/>
<em>“I don’t get it? What’s the big deal? Are you just now realizing that Iwaizumi is kind of a stud?”</em>
</p><p><br/>
He ruffles. Hanamaki can’t see him but he almost expects to be made fun of for how flustered he must look.</p><p><br/>
<em>“Dude. I know you couldn’t make it when we visited last year but… Iwaizumi’s got game.”</em>
</p><p><br/>
“What are you talking about?”</p><p><br/>
<em>“He’s hot. You know if you’re into the rugged type. He’s like all beefy but he has a heart of gold so it’s all cute and non-threatening? Plus he’s got the whole sexy nurse thing going on which gives him major points-”</em>
</p><p><br/>
“WHAT? Why do these sound like video game character stats?”</p><p><br/>
<em>“Matsukawa and I made dating skill charts, like all the way back in high school. He got the highest total.”</em> Before Oikawa can ask Hanamaki answers him, <em>“You got a 5/5 on appearance but 1/5 for personality.”</em></p><p><br/>
“Fuck off.”</p><p><br/>
<em>“One out of five.”</em> he reminds him <em>“You’re lucky Iwaizumi is so forgiving.”</em></p><p><br/>
“Ugh. What? Makki. Shut up for a second.”</p><p><br/>
<em>“You ask me to help you with your little gay crisis and this is how you treat me...”</em> He will not deign to respond to that.</p><p><br/>
“B-but Iwa-chan has never dated anyone?”</p><p><br/>
<em>“Not because he can’t. He’s like… he’s like a volcel.”</em>
</p><p><br/>
“...”<br/>
<em>“You know like an incel? But voluntary. A volcel.”</em> he turns that around in his head for a bit, then decides he can’t deal with whatever that means right now.</p><p><br/>
“You’re giving me a headache. Thank you for not being helpful at all! I’m hanging up on you now.” Oikawa sticks his tongue out at his phone.</p><p><br/>
<em>“What the hell - you called me?”</em>
</p><p><br/>
Oikawa puffs his cheeks out. He thought Makki would have found it funny and agreed with him that Iwaizumi being fawned over was something alien but apparently not.</p><p><br/>
“Hey,” Iwaizumi’s voice sneaks up from behind him. It’s still all low and gravelly like it is when he’s just woken up. “Who was that?”</p><p><br/>
“Makki.” Oikawa had considered lying for a split-second and then realized there was no reason to. It’s not like he has anything to be secretive about. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were up yet.” Iwaizumi stretches his neck and shrugs his shoulders at him.</p><p><br/>
“No big deal, he texted me yesterday. You already eat?”</p><p><br/>
“Not yet.”</p><p><br/>
“What the hell? It’s past noon. Have you been waiting for me? If you were hungry you should’ve just woken me up-”</p><p><br/>
“I wasn’t hungry! And Iwa-chan you should’ve seen yourself, you looked so cute when you were sleeping, I couldn’t disturb you.”</p><p><br/>
------</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine.” Iwaizumi insists, for the third time.</p><p><br/>
“It’s not fine! Iwa-chan only has a few days here and we can’t even do anything because I’m like this.”</p><p><br/>
It had taken a several hour gestation period for Oikawa’s hangover to fully hit, but a few paces into their morning (actually afternoon) run and he felt like he was going to retch. And then he’d sprinted back to his apartment and really did.<br/>
They’re in his tiny bathroom, Oikawa kneeling on the floor, head resting on the toilet seat, and Iwaizumi sitting on the edge of his bathtub, brushing his hair off his face.</p><p><br/>
“I mean, this is precisely what I paid for, seeing you puking your brains out on the bathroom floor.” Iwaizumi teases, but his hand in Oikawa’s hair is feather-light. He knows Oikawa feels too awful to hit him but he glares with all he’s got. “Seeing you like this is the real attraction.”</p><p><br/>
He receives a middle finger for that, and even though he was kidding Iwaizumi realizes he sort of meant it. Oikawa has always been a sight to behold. They've seen each other at least weekly in video-form for years now, and it's not like Oikawa is shy on Instagram, but he hasn't gotten to just look at him like this in so long. His hair is tousled as ever, shorter than it'd been in high school, now cropped at his neck and sun-bleached now. His eyelashes had always been ridiculously long, <em>"all natural, I swear!"</em>, and curtain his stupid, gigantic doe eyes. The ones he uses to get whatever he wants, the ones that could switch between teen idol and calculating strategist. His face is all blotchy now, but his skins still perfect, after a quick bout of breakouts in middle school he'd somehow come out the other end the picture of skincare and had an unfairly perfect complexion ever since. He's gotten a permanent tan (Iwaizumi is still insistent that he remember sunscreen) and he looks as radiant as always, maybe more so with age and maturity. He's grown up, still lanky, but significantly more muscular than he'd been in high school (Iwaizumi's still got him beat), and his long, elegant limbs are slumped on the cool tile. Sure right now, clutching his toilet, he objectively looks like shit, but the bastard deserves it after years of peacocking and flitting around, knowingly the most beautiful thing in any vicinity. It almost pisses Iwaizumi off that he still looks charming.</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi feels a bit guilty for the state he’s in, “Hey, I’m happy just hanging out here with you.” Oikawa sets his chin on the toilet seat and lets Iwaizumi draw his thumb along his cheek. He’s sweaty and a little red in the face, but the smile that sneaks onto his face is genuine (for the split second before he scrunches his entire face up and lunges for the toilet).</p><p>-----</p><p>A while later and Oikawa finally feels like it’s emptied out his guts, but it kind of spoils any appetite or desire to walk around, so they just stay in. They’re back on the couch, Iwaizumi’s alternating between reviewing and scrolling through his Instagram (which he hardly ever posts on) while Oikawa sits perpendicular to him, feet in his lap and occasionally being slapped away when they get in the way of his papers. Oikawa is on his own phone, receiving a barrage of texts from his teammates. He’s thankful he wasn’t allowed to do anything actually embarrassing, all they have on him is that he’s a clingy drunk and has a tolerance like a kid, that’s not so bad. But he smiles at his phone as he talks to them, the rest of their chat asking what they’ve all been up to.</p><p><br/>
He glances up at Iwaizumi here and there, every time the chat is talking about him and he’s reminded that he’s really right there. For a second, Iwaizumi hunched over his computer in focus and Oikawa vying for his attention, he almost forgets that this hasn’t been their everyday life in years, that Iwaizumi has only been here for a few days and leaving just as soon. There was a moment there, maybe when they were just about to graduate high school when he'd had the fleeting thought that something like this would be their future. But that's not how things shook out. The pings on his phone snap him out of his weird boring fantasy, and he chuckles at the picture one of his teammates just sent. He lifts his eyes from his phone, about to show Iwaizumi, only to find him already looking right at him.<br/>
“What are you staring at?” He narrows his eyes, tone playful.</p><p><br/>
He was kidding, but Iwaizumi seems a bit surprised- like he’d been zoned out and staring for longer than Oikawa had made note of it...</p><p><br/>
“Nothing. Just.” He clears his throat. “You look good.” Oikawa blinks. Iwaizumi had literally watched him heave his guts out just a few hours ago, there’s no way that’s true. And of course, he can’t just say thank you, he has to respond like the brat he is.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan, I always look good.”</p><p><br/>
“Oh fuck off. That’s not- I mean. You look… happy.” he says with a shrug, “You haven’t been doing your stupid fake smile thing.”</p><p><br/>
Oikawa scoffs back at him, “All of my smiles are completely genuine all the time.”</p><p><br/>
“Whatever you say.” Iwaizumi says with a smug pull of his lips, he taps his pen and returns to his notes. Oikawa’s gut instinct is to retort but he registers that Iwaizumi’s not making fun of him in the slightest. And he’s kind of right. He’s suddenly hyper-aware of his face and realizes that he hasn’t slipped one of his figurative masks (which he’ll deny ever exist) on in a while... He hadn’t even thought about it.</p><p><br/>
“Quit analyzing me, weirdo. You’re freaking me out.”</p><p>-----</p><p>Day 4</p><p>On Iwaizumi’s penultimate day, they make it their goal to get souvenirs and do their gift-buying for their families. Iwaizumi will go to Miyagi and see both of their parents far sooner than Oikawa will, so he’ll be the delivery man.</p><p><br/>
“This isn’t fair, my mom’s going to like you more than me!” They’re at their fifth shop of the day.</p><p><br/>
“Please, she already does.” Iwaizumi says as he looks through a rack of clothing. “Always has, always will.”</p><p><br/>
Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him, annoyed that he’s kind of right.“What do I even get them?” he mumbles.</p><p><br/>
“Okaa-san likes cooking stuff? But there’s no point getting that here.”</p><p><br/>
“Maybe I’ll order her something… Okay. Then a sweatshirt for Takeru, what size is he again?”</p><p><br/>
“Hm. I don’t know. When I went for Winter Break he was definitely taller.” Oikawa had received a selfie of them together when Iwaizumi went to visit. Takeru perched on Iwaizumi's shoulders, the two of them holding up peace signs and sticking their tongues out at him. He had immediately called to complain about Iwaizumi cheating for Takeru's favoritism, stealing his own nephew away from him (and then saved the picture as his background). They’d Facetimed as Iwaizumi walked through his old room in Oikawa's childhood home to find a few things he wanted to be sent to Argentina, his mother had given him the task since Iwaizumi knew that room practically as well as he did.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s getting so big.”</p><p><br/>
“Bigger than Iwa-chan?”</p><p><br/>
He gets a clap to the head for that.</p><p><br/>
“He’s <em>12</em>.”</p><p><br/>
“But he has my genes! And it’s not like he has that far to go… Iwa-chan, wait! We still haven’t gotten something for Auntie yet! Iwa-chan!”</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>After hours of shopping, walking, and more asada - “You’re not sick of meat?” “Are you?” “No way.”, and then a stop at the supermarket to refill his fridge, they return to home base. The two of them put their groceries away, Oikawa conveniently calls his mom in the middle of it, swinging his legs as he sits on the countertop, while Iwaizumi has somehow been tasked with putting the last of their things away.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan say hi!” Oikawa says, scooting over so he can get both their heads in view.</p><p><br/>
“Hi, Auntie.” Iwaizumi says, smiling as he gives a wave.</p><p><br/>
<em>“Hajime-kun! Oh, it's so nice to see you two together! How are you?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I'm good, I'm good, how are you?" Iwaizumi says, setting down the bags so they can fit closer together.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Is my son being a good host? You know you can tell me if he isn't!"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Okaa-san!"</p><p> </p><p>"He's been a great host, auntie, really!"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Oh please. You couldn't tell on him if you tried. Hajime-kun! Make sure he’s been keeping that apartment of his clean, okay?.”</em>
</p><p><br/>
“Okaa-san, it is clean! Iwa-chan can vouch for me!” Oikawa whines, before handing the phone over to Iwaizumi, knowing she’ll talk his ear off asking him to update her about how he’s been since winter. Oikawa bristles in mock-offense, “her own son right here and she doesn’t even care!” but he leans his head over Iwaizumi’s shoulder and listens to them talk. She bulldozes him with questions, already had her fill of Tooru-updates. Oikawa's already heard the routine answers but pays attention as Iwaizumi runs through his report.</p><p><br/>
<em>“I can't believe you're already graduating! It feels like just last week you two were finishing high school! After the ceremony, are you coming home for good? There’s this girl your mother and I think you should meet-”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>His mother finally lets them go after who knows how long, with an <em>“I’ll see you in June, Hajime-kun!”</em> and a <em>“Don’t give him too much of a hassle, Tooru.”</em>. They reward themselves for being good sons with newly purchased beer and sit together on the balcony. Their cans between them, not talking, comfortable with the ambient sound of the city below them and the fan oscillating just inside.</p><p><br/>
“You’re not planning on going back are you?” Iwaizumi says, his deep voice almost a shock amidst the quiet. It's more like a statement than a question. But it still feels like he’s giving Oikawa a chance to answer. Does he mean for the summer? for the year? forever? He didn’t specify and yet Oikawa knows what he means.<br/>
He doesn’t look up from a crack on the ground when he opens his mouth.</p><p><br/>
“I started the application process.”</p><p><br/>
“Hm?” It’s a signal to go on. Iwaizumi’s eyes are cast at the city surrounding them, rather than at Oikawa, who exhales before continuing.<br/>
“Technically, I’ve lived and worked here for over 2 years now so I’m eligible to become a naturalized citizen.”<br/>
Iwaizumi swallows slowly. Then nods. His face is unreadable.</p><p><br/>
He knows Iwaizumi already knows how it works. They’ve spent hours over Facetime, trying to work through their forms and figure out visas together, they’d chosen drastically different destinations but they were both kids leaving home. Iwaizumi has probably already put together what this means, “I have to decide before I turn 22.” He knows they both already know that. Iwaizumi’s birthday is just a month before his. They turn 22 this summer. </p><p><br/>
“I just have to give up my Japanese citizenship and do some more paperwork and it’ll be official.” He said ‘just’ but it’s been weighing on his mind for months now.</p><p><br/>
“Oh.”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah.”</p><p><br/>
Earlier the silence had felt cozy, casual, but now it feels discomfitingly empty. Oikawa can hear car ignitions and people talking, the muted sounds of a house party somewhere below them, and yet it feels void. Neither of them is saying anything.<br/>
It’s Iwaizumi who breaks the silence.</p><p><br/>
“You should do it.”</p><p><br/>
Oikawa stares at him, eyes wide. “What?”</p><p><br/>
“You should do it. Finish the whole process.” Iwaizumi takes a deep breath and turns to look at Oikawa right in the eye. “You were never going to be satisfied with Miyagi or Nationals. You’re going to keep going as far as you possibly can. Told you that you probably won’t be happy ’til you’re an old man.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t you ever just be nice!”</p><p><br/>
“But that’s why you should do it.” Iwaizumi promptly <em>ignores</em> him, plowing on. “You seem happy here.”</p><p><br/>
“I…” Oikawa blinks, then looks up to meet Iwaizumi’s eyes. His gut reaction is to argue, but then he thinks about what he actually said. Iwaizumi has always been observant, to an often annoying degree. And whether or not Oikawa realized it he has been paying attention to him, like always, but him here, in his new home which has begun to feel like just that - home. Iwaizumi, who has known him all his life, who knows him better than anyone else on the planet, said it with such certainty. And Oikawa realizes that he’s right.</p><p><br/>
“Yeah, I really am.”</p><p>-----</p><p>Day 5</p><p> </p><p>Having finally gone to bed late the previous day, they slog through the morning before finally going on a run. They have empanadas for lunch, grab coffee before taking a final stroll around the city, take a whole new load of pictures after his mother’s insistence, and crash back into his apartment in the evening.</p><p><br/>
“So…what do you want to do with your last night here?” Oikawa says, rolling over the back of the couch to join Iwaizumi, rather than just walking over like a normal person.</p><p><br/>
“Can we just hang out here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Iwa-chan! We’ve been sitting here since yesterday. Don’t you want to do something Argentina-specific? Make the most of your time here?”</p><p><br/>
“Well, we’re not going to make it to Patagonia in the next 12 hours so I’m good.” Oikawa looks back at him, unconvinced. Iwaizumi sighs, pushing himself up a bit so they’re level. “I just want to spend time with you.”<br/>
Oikawa grimaces like he’s smelled something awful, but his cheeks look a bit rosy.</p><p><br/>
“Ugh. What the hell! When did you get so sappy.”</p><p><br/>
“Sorry for being<em> so</em> honest all the time.” He smirks back at Oikawa. He can’t believe that somehow this is how he wins, more than yelling, the ultimate trump card to get under Oikawa’s skin - genuine affection.<br/>
“You’re embarrassing.”</p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>They spend the evening between his bedroom and his living room, Iwaizumi packing up his stuff and Oikawa semi-intentionally distracting him (if he never packs he can’t leave right?) by talking about whatever pops into his head. Still, he makes marginal progress and soon realizes he has to reorganize his suitcase with their newfound additions. After playing a difficult game of Tetris with all his stuff, and taking a much-needed breather, he looks up to where Oikawa is stretched out on the bed in his pajamas like he’s in the middle of a photoshoot.</p><p><br/>
“Alright, come here.” He says, and Oikawa launches himself off the bed so he can plop onto the near-bursting suitcase with all his weight. Iwaizumi pulls the zipper with all his might, met with Oikawa’s unhelpful laughter, almost knocking him off the thing when he gives it a powerful yank. And yet still doesn’t get past the halfway point. He taps Oikawa’s thigh. “Up. Your flat ass isn’t working.”</p><p><br/>
“My ass isn’t flat!” his claim is harshly ignored.</p><p><br/>
“Why did you have to buy so much stuff? Can’t you keep some things here...” Iwaizumi sits back to analyze the pile, trying to come at it from another angle.</p><p><br/>
“You would break my mother’s heart?”</p><p><br/>
Finally, after some smacking and sitting and deciding Iwaizumi might have to wear more layers than planned to the airport his suitcase is sealed up, the rest of his clothes can cram into his duffle bag so he has something to wear the next day. Iwaizumi looks proudly at his work before looking up at Oikawa, back on the bed, above him.</p><p><br/>
“Oi, you bastard.”</p><p><br/>
“What did I do!”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi tugs at the sweatshirt on him, <em>his</em> sweatshirt, the UC Irvine student store one that Oikawa had claimed as his own for the past few days. “You totally knew you still had that on.”</p><p><br/>
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Oikawa feigns innocence and rolls over in the bed when Iwaizumi tries to wrestle him for it, although he’s not giving him much of a fight.</p><p><br/>
“Whatever, it’s yours.” Iwaizumi sighs, collapsing onto the bed next to him.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan! Really?” His enthusiasm speaks to his guilt, but his eyes are sparkling.</p><p><br/>
“It’s not like it’s going to fit. And I do not want to open that thing back up.”</p><p><br/>
“Hm. It’s cuter on me anyway.”</p><p><br/>
-----</p><p><br/>
Dinner is leftovers and rice, (they'd tried to get something Argentina-exclusive each day, but food gets expensive, and they got lazy), once they’re finished they do the dishes side-by-side, Iwaizumi washing and Oikawa drying before putting them away. <em>“I have to, Iwa-chan can’t reach the highest shelf.”</em> which earned him a towel to the ass. Really he’s getting out of his hands making contact with wet food. By the time the dishes are all back in place, it’s well into the night. Too lethargic to do anything else, they decide on watching a movie on the couch again. This time it’s Iwaizumi’s pick, and he opts for the American Godzilla reboot that they hadn’t been able to watch together in theaters.</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi is peeved about how much screen time Godzilla gets and how uninteresting the cast is, and Oikawa nods along in agreement, the crease in his forehead he gets when he’s irritated is kind of cute. Still, they watch it to the end, wasting no time pretending like they’re not going to cuddle and end up interlocked together in the corner of the couch. They stay there long after the credits have run.</p><p><br/>
“I can’t believe you’re leaving in the morning.” Oikawa whispers from where his head is curled into Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Their legs alternate in front of him, there's a sturdy arm around his back and his own hand across against Iwaizumi's chest.</p><p><br/>
“Tooru.” Oikawa is alert at the sound of his given name and tilts his head up to find Iwaizumi is already staring at him. If it was some other time he’d tease him about being a creep, if only the look in his eyes wasn’t so... petrifying.</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi is leaning ever so slightly forward and before Oikawa can think about it too much, he’s letting him. Then their foreheads are touching, their breath is warm, and Iwaizumi is closing his eyes, while Oikawa’s are left open, head swimming. The moment feels suspended in amber somehow. The two of them here, connected on his couch, sounds of the city drowned out by how loud his pulse is beating in his ears. Of course, it’s Iwaizumi who takes the plunge, and then there are lips on lips. This is a kiss.</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi Hajime is kissing him. And the only thing his mind supplies is,<em> finally.</em></p><p> </p><p>There’s no way it lasts longer than a half-second, but Oikawa feels at once like everything happened in slow motion and yet that he’d blinked and missed it. Iwaizumi is already backing away, but before he can get any further Oikawa shifts onto his knees, sloping forward, and kisses Iwaizumi right back.</p><p><br/>
He hears a tiny, incredulous laugh from Iwaizumi, whose turn it is to freeze before he brings his hands up to Oikawa’s cheeks and his mouth to his. One kiss melds into two which turns to three and it’s hard to keep track. Why is he trying to keep track? Oikawa can’t think and do this at the same time but he also can’t turn his brain off and his heart rate is picking up and Iwaizumi’s hands are sliding from his jaw to his shoulders and then to his waist and he can’t think-</p><p><br/>
“Wait.”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi practically jumps back, but Oikawa’s arms are still around his shoulders so he can only go so far. He barely catches himself before nearly dragging the two of them off the couch. He exhales rapidly and then squints back at Oikawa with a dazed look on his face.</p><p><br/>
“Huh?”</p><p><br/>
“We shouldn’t do this.” Oikawa says, arms awkwardly detaching from where they were wrapped around Iwaizumi, looking like he doesn’t know where to put them.</p><p><br/>
“Shit.” Iwaizumi’s eyes widen, then dart between them, and he realizes his own hands are still on Oikawa’s waist. He retracts them frantically and runs them nervously through his hair. “Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Shit. Shit. Shit.”</p><p><br/>
“Wait no!” Oikawa blurts it before he thinks it through, but he knows he can’t let Iwaizumi think he’s done something wrong somehow. “Not. Not because I don’t want to!”</p><p><br/>
“Oh.” Iwaizumi says slowly, panic seemingly on hold, a blush seeping onto his face.</p><p><br/>
“But… but if we do this,” he’s not quite certain what he means by that but he gestures awkwardly between their bodies. He brings his knees up to his chest, arms wrapping around them in need of something to hold onto without reaching for <em>him</em>. He feels like he’s just grasping for an excuse, anything to give him a second to just breathe and <em>think</em>, but he’s caught up with how much he means it, “then… Then I’ll know what I’ve been missing… and I don’t know if I can deal with that.”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything, and Oikawa doesn’t feel brave enough to look up at him. He knows Iwaizumi can tell when he lies and when he’s being honest. Probably even better than he can. He knows that Iwaizumi heard every word he said and is already picking them apart. Trying so hard to understand them.</p><p><br/>
“I... I miss you so much and we’re not even-” he says it more to himself than Iwaizumi, and he can’t finish the thought.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey.” Iwaizumi says just as he feels his lip tremble. There he is. Somehow always there to catch him before he falls. Oikawa doesn’t look up at him, but he feels the shift in the couch as Iwaizumi comes closer, wholly innocent, hands far away from Oikawa’s waist or lips anywhere near his. “It’s fine. We don’t have to …” he doesn’t finish the sentence. They’re talking about so much more than just kissing and they both know it. It’s the elephant in the room, the one that’s been there half their lives and whether they were kids having a sleepover in his childhood home or fully grown adults an entire ocean away. Iwaizumi doesn’t keep talking, rather he slowly extends his hand, bringing it up to Oikawa’s forehead, and then he cards his fingers through his hair so gentle it hurts, before dropping his hand back into his lap.</p><p><br/>
“But as far as knowing what we’re missing goes…” Iwaizumi starts, and Oikawa had almost forgotten he’d said that let alone that Iwaizumi had heard it. “I’m not sure it matters to me. I think I’m already ruined.”</p><p><br/>
“What?” Oikawa looks up at him from where he’s hidden his head behind his knees. “What does that mean?”</p><p><br/>
“Shittykawa. I’m graduating in like a month. And I’ve <em>definitely</em> tried,” Oikawa’s mind trips over that, he feels a flare of jealousy inside of him, and tries to mentally snuff it out. What does he have to be jealous of? What right does he have to think this person is his... He realizes that Iwaizumi has paused because he can probably<em> hear</em> him thinking, how embarrassing. The look Iwaizumi gives him is fond, but more than that- it's resigned. Like he’s surrendering. Giving up a fight.</p><p><br/>
“But I’m still not over you.” He says, an acceptance. “and I can’t say if I’m ever going to be.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa is utterly silent. Audibly, internally, altogether. Iwaizumi has gotten too shy to look at him now, he’s looking indistinctly at the window like he’s telling the whole world but also no one at all.</p><p><br/>
“I...I’m not saying this because I expect something or to make you do anything about it, okay? But I’m in love with you. I’m always going to be.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi isn’t surprised that he said it. He doesn’t panic or try to backtrack. Kissing had been new, a tiny bit scary, and he’s still not sure where that leaves them. But this is a thought that sits with him every day of his life, it doesn’t shock him at all. It feels like saying something obvious. Like he’s introducing himself - Iwaizumi Hajime, 21, Japanese, currently a student, in love with Oikawa Tooru. He’s lived so long with this being an open secret, a given, a joke from his friends, a question from his college roommate, a quiet admittance to himself after hanging up from his hundredth call. He had almost forgotten that he'd never said it in explicit terms.</p><p><br/>
It’s silent save for the hum of the air conditioning. He supposes that’s fair. But as the sound drums on he feels anxious to see what expression Oikawa has on his face, finally building up the courage to gauge his reaction, and it’s one of those few and far between occurrences that he doesn’t know just what to expect from him.</p><p><br/>
There’s a sniffle from his side. And then a tiny choke.</p><p><br/>
“Hey, hey. Why are you crying?”</p><p><br/>
“I’m not!” Oikawa is quick to say, but getting the words out must break the dam because he can’t hold it in anymore and soon he’s blubbering like a baby. “I’m not.” He insists, tucking his head behind his arms.</p><p><br/>
“Shittykawa, I have eyes.” Iwaizumi tips his head to see him a bit better. “You know you really are an ugly crier.”</p><p><br/>
“I-I thought you said you loved me!” So he had heard him after all. At least he’s not pretending he didn’t.</p><p><br/>
“Of course you’d hold that over my head.” he laughs. Almost tragic.</p><p><br/>
“You… you’re such a jerk.” </p><p><br/>
“What the hell?” Iwaizumi says, but it’s too tender to sound pissed, and he’s brushing his hand on his face to wipe the tears off of Oikawa’s cheeks.</p><p><br/>
“I can’t believe you choose now to say that.”</p><p><br/>
“I’m not going to see you for months after-”</p><p><br/>
“Exactly!” he cries, loud enough Iwaizumi actually flinches. “You’re leaving in the morning and you tell me now.”</p><p><br/>
“That’s what you’re upset about?” He says tentatively. So that’s it, not the statement but the timing.</p><p><br/>
“What am I supposed to do now?” He says more to himself than Iwaizumi, refusing to meet his eyes.</p><p><br/>
Does he even know what he’s upset about? What he feels isn’t disgust. There’s no recoil, no disbelief. He thinks maybe he’s always known. Regardless of the word for it, Iwaizumi Hajime has always been the person he holds most dear and vice versa. It’s a known variable. It's simply the case. </p><p><br/>
But now, with it put in words so clearly before him he doesn’t know what to do with it. He can't really reject him because Iwaizumi isn’t asking him for anything. And if he lets himself consider it he’s not sure he'd want to. Of course he doesn’t want to. But what would the alternative possibly be? He leaves in a few hours. They live 8,897 km apart and in a few months that distance will have doubled. His heart is thrumming in his chest, and he feels too much at once, he feels like he's been electrified, secure and certain about one thing and somehow hopeless. It's devastating. The person he feels so much for, feels everything for, feels that way too, enough that he’d said he was <em>in love with him</em>. And he’s leaving in the morning.</p><p><br/>
“I’m going back to California.” Iwaizumi says, facing him again. Matter of fact as always.</p><p><br/>
<em>“Thanks for reminding me.”</em>
</p><p><br/>
“I’m going back to California,” Iwaizumi repeats, a little bit exasperated this time, “And I’m finishing school, and maybe going back to Japan for summer break, and then I’ll probably go back to the west coast and finish my apprenticeship and then after that, I honestly don’t know. And you’re going to be here.” He looks at him to confirm this. Oikawa gives him the tiniest nod back, feeling a little miserable. “You’ll be here and you’re going to keep being amazing and I’m going to cheer you on every step of the way.” As he says it, Oikawa thinks that that’s practically been what they’ve been doing. What their reality has been ever since they graduated high school. “And I love you and I’m going to keep loving you and wherever we are isn’t going to change that.”</p><p><br/>
He breathes in, and then out again. He’s dragging his feet to come up with some way to respond to that.</p><p><br/>
“I don’t want you to have to wait for me-” is what slips out.</p><p><br/>
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Iwaizumi says without missing a beat. “I’m not waiting for anything or anyone... and neither should you.”</p><p><br/>
“B-but, don’t you want to go on with your life?”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi laughs at him and he feels himself starting to pout, he still feels sad and strange and a little overwhelmed and now this <em>asshole</em> is making fun of him.</p><p><br/>
“I’m going on with my life just fine. It’s not like I’m in a rush to settle down with someone. Even if our mothers keep trying to set me up with their friends’ daughters.” Oikawa is still preoccupied with his earlier statements, he can barely keep up with all of this. Iwaizumi is talking about settling down and marriage - their parents had joked about it when they were little when they'd been "betrothed" on the playground, and later their teammates labeling them team Mom and Dad, an old married couple. But those were inside jokes, memories to laugh about later. Iwaizumi was talking about reality, his future, his whole life, and… he talks like he’s already accepted his fate.</p><p><br/>
“You… You think we’re going to be together?” It’s the most concrete sentence he can muster.</p><p><br/>
“I… I never said that. Shit. I don't expect you to- that's not what I meant.” For all his bold statements he’s getting so bashful.</p><p><br/>
“But that's what you think, isn't it?”</p><p><br/>
“I... I mean it's what I <em>want</em>." there's a pause. "But I don’t know." He admits. His eyebrows gather and scrunch, but then they're soothed, and he nods to himself. "But I think I can be okay with that.” He says, seemingly more convinced with each word. Iwaizumi looks around, the weight of what he’s said catching up with him, and he appears to crumble a bit under it all. It's odd. To see someone who has always been a rock, straightforward and honest, look so uncertain. When he budges to get up, to give Oikawa space, he speaks before he can overthink it any more.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan." he swallows, looks at his pillar, his resolve in front of him. "I think I can be okay with that too.”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi sinks back down into his place but doesn’t meet his eyes yet.</p><p><br/>
“You still haven’t said if you…”</p><p><br/>
“You didn’t ask.”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi sighs, inclines his head just so, and there are sharp, olive-green eyes looking at him. “I’m not trying to ask you for anything.”</p><p><br/>
“I want you to though.” He can’t quite put it into words yet. Everything he’s been feeling for what - since highschool? Longer? But he wills Iwaizumi to understand, wishes they really did have telepathy like everyone had joked. He builds up all his courage and kisses Iwaizumi Hajime with his whole heart.</p><p><br/>
It’s not a confession. He’s not really sure it counts if it’s an open secret. But Iwaizumi Hajime has always been able to read him like nobody else, to read between the lines and translate his Oikawa-ness and know what he wants. And beyond that, what he needs. Iwaizumi is rough and loud and sometimes a little mean but he’s also the kindest person he knows and his best friend in the whole world and he needs him to know that. His eyes sneak open, only slightly, and the look on Iwaizumi’s face tells him that he, like always, understands. It’s one for Iwaizumi, one for Oikawa now. The third time, when they go in for the kiss in unison, it’s a draw.</p><p> </p><p>They don’t do anything more than kissing, anything more might have killed them. It’s clunky and stupid but they end up tangled on the couch, kissing between Oikawa’s bittersweet laughter, Iwaizumi’s resigned looks of fondness, and just holding onto each other for dear life. As much as they both want to lie there forever, Iwaizumi has to be at the airport before the crack of dawn and wants to sleep on a bed before he’s trapped sitting upright for over a day. Oikawa somehow gets Iwaizumi to carry him like a princess back to his bed and they crash into it before exchanging more shy kisses under his heap of blankets. The kisses get sleepier and sleepier until they’re not so much kissing as lying side by side with their faces as close as they can possibly be. It’s sometime past 2 in the morning and they’re drifting off to sleep, silent except for the occasional rustle of sheets.</p><p><br/>
“Goodnight Hajime.”</p><p><br/>
“Goodnight Tooru.”</p><p>-----</p><p>Day 6</p><p><br/>
“Do you really have to go?”</p><p><br/>
“I really do.”</p><p><br/>
Oikawa sighs with his whole chest, always melodramatic. He’s been dreading this, and he’s made no attempts to hide it. It’s 6 in the morning, Benjamin had let him use his car to take Iwaizumi to the airport himself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Hajime, I trust you. Don’t let him do anything to it!”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“You trust him more than me?”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The ride had been silent beyond Iwaizumi complaining about his song choices, and he’d spent the whole time trying not to give in to the hole growing in the pit of his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>They’d only managed to sleep for a few hours before waking up intertwined. Oikawa was the first to wake, almost surprised by Iwaizumi's solid, comforting, <em>real</em> arms wrapped around his waist. He didn't venture to look at the face nestled into the back of his neck, brushing his hair, he wasn't sure if he wanted to. He'd pretended he was asleep for almost an hour, hearing his own heartbeat synchronized with Iwaizumi's so close behind him, the room filled by hi breathing. He had been determined not to make a sound, not to move a muscle, in fear that he'd wake Iwaizumi any sooner than necessary.</p><p> </p><p>And then his alarm had gone off, Iwaizumi had started to come to and time kept moving forward. He felt Iwaizumi squeezed him tighter, for just a millisecond, then he brought his head to his cheek to give him a phantom kiss, before extricating his limbs from Oikawa's and slipping off the bed without saying anything. The rest of their morning had been spent brushing their teeth, collecting the last of Iwaizumi’s things, and triple-checking that he hadn’t forgotten anything. Oikawa just sat on his bed, deliberately unhelpful, running his thumb through his fingers and staring at the suitcase on his floor.</p><p> </p><p>Despite there being almost too much open-air to speak, there hadn’t been a chance to <em>talk about it</em>, but what is there to say? And then Iwaizumi had wheeled his suitcase out, Oikawa had turned the lights off and locked the door, and they’d walked down the stairs to the car a little closer than usual, having never said a thing.</p><p> </p><p>They’re standing outside the departures terminal. He’s still not fully awake and he really doesn’t want to be here. He’s heartsore and sleepy and increasingly cold, San Juan had been in the high 20s all week, but the sun isn’t even up yet and his body gives an unsanctioned shiver. He’d worn Iwaizumi’s sweatshirt right out of bed and is clinging to it like a lifeline now, hands twiddling with the edges as Iwaizumi gets his suitcase out of the trunk.</p><p><br/>
“Hey, come here.” Iwaizumi seems to notice his silence. He opens his arms up and Oikawa just <em>buckles</em>, his eyes squeezing shut while Iwaizumi wraps himself around him. He’s the shorter one, has been since middle school, and yet somehow he's the one doing the enveloping. Keeping him together.</p><p><br/>
They stand there holding each other. It’s too early for the drop-off lane to be busy and he thinks maybe if they never let go they can just stay like this. He won’t have to leave. Iwaizumi, who had been first to catch a bug, first to traverse the neighborhood creek, first to give what he feels name, is the first to speak up now.</p><p><br/>
“I love you.”</p><p><br/>
He can’t see Iwaizumi say it from where his head is hooked over his shoulder, but he feels his arms squeeze ever so slightly tighter. It takes him too long to say anything back but no one’s rushing him.</p><p><br/>
“I know.” Oikawa whispers. He can feel Iwaizumi laugh into their embrace before he takes a step back to cross his arms, eyebrows raised at Oikawa.</p><p><br/>
“Oh, so I’m Princess Leia?”</p><p><br/>
Oikawa’s eyes flutter in split-second confusion, realizing he is no longer being held by very nice, very toned arms. “Wait!” His taciturn phase seemingly over. “That’s not a bad thing! Princess Leia is cool! and she’s definitely force-sensitive- Iwa-chan!” Iwaizumi swings his backpack on, rolling his eyes. Then he goes for his suitcase, ignoring a visibly floundering Oikawa.</p><p><br/>
“I’ll call you when I land, ‘kay?”</p><p><br/>
Oikawa’s face certainly <em>feels</em> red, and somehow now he’s warm and sweaty and definitely not being held enough. He swallows and nods his head, struggling to take Iwaizumi in and not make eye contact with him at the same time. “Yeah. You better.”</p><p><br/>
Then Iwaizumi takes a deep breath, letting go of his suitcase handle so he can hold Oikawa’s face with both his hands and for the second time ever (if you count last night's as one very long, continuous kiss) he presses their lips together and kisses him.</p><p><br/>
He takes his time backing away, their foreheads are still touching when he whispers,</p><p><br/>
<em>“I love you.”</em>
</p><p><br/>
“You said that already.” Oikawa coughs out, mind too fried to come up with anything better. Iwaizumi shrugs, all nonchalant, but he’s getting redder and redder.</p><p><br/>
“Can’t hurt.” and with that Iwaizumi steps away, this time for real, and turns to walk through the automatic doors to his Terminal. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa’s left there standing, feeling like an idiot, head foggy and still-buffering, but some sort of desperate instinct overrides his internal freak-out. He just barely manages to call out just as the doors start sliding shut.</p><p><br/>
“Iwa-chan!”, who instantly whips around at the name, confusing the automatic doors. Oikawa drinks him in, savors what he can have for just this moment. He really would drop everything and stay if he asked, wouldn't he?</p><p> </p><p>But he can’t do that. He won't do that.</p><p> </p><p>He feels ridiculous and his eyes are definitely welling up again but he gives it absolutely everything he has and cries out, humiliatingly loud,</p><p> </p><p>“I love you!”</p><p><br/>
Iwaizumi takes one last look at him, lets go of his stupid buckled-backpack to cup his hands together like a megaphone and yells back,</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
“I know!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(feel free to ignore but here is a collection of sketches of scenes/things mentioned/general ideas in vague chronological order)</p><p>
  
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>First, Spanish translations:<br/>- muchas gracias - thank you (very much)<br/>- de nada - you're welcome/no problem<br/>- dónde has estado? - where have you been?<br/>- bienvenido - welcome<br/>- es verdad - it's true<br/>- una cerveza por favor - a beer please<br/>- una caña, gracias - a can, thank you<br/>- perdon, un otro, un poco más fuerte, por favor - excuse me, another, a bit stronger, please</p><p> </p><p>If you somehow got to the end of this, really really really thank you so much! I am trying very hard to get through the embarrassment I feel putting this out into the world. But also!! if there are typos or gaping plot holes or just anything - please! call me out on it. </p><p>I can't really speak to being in love with your childhood best friend (and certainly not being a professional volleyball player) and living 17,000 miles apart, but I can speak to moving far away from home and somehow making a new one, and loving friends across the globe so very much and having that love questioned, renewed, and evolved after being lucky enough to have them visit me. This fic started out half this length and the more I wrote the more I probably projected? So again, apologies if it feels vastly out of character.</p><p>Thank you, thank you, thank you!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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